


Decide on me, decide on us

by calamaris



Series: from the same star, despite our distance [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Power Play, Romance, Straight Razors, Woman on Top, johnny can have V trim his beard for him as a treat, love language: acts of service, soft johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamaris/pseuds/calamaris
Summary: Johnny’s beard neckline needs to be shaped up. He realizes fairly quickly that V only owns a straight razor – but Johnny has no idea how to use one.Y’all see where this is going.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V
Series: from the same star, despite our distance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110161
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	Decide on me, decide on us

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to the james bond skyfall shaving scene for inspiring this self-indulgent fic, i'm gay!

_"Can't count the years on one hand that we've been together,_ _I need the other one to hold you"_

* * *

Freshly showered, Johnny goes hunting for a razor. He wants to surprise V, clean up his beard a little – she’d made a point of teasing him on how scruffy he was looking. He knows under his neck has gotten pretty…ill-groomed and now that he’s back in his body he’s got little excuse to not take care of himself a bit better. But what he isn’t expecting to find amongst V’s personal effects is an old-fashioned straight razor. 

“Well isn’t this a sight.”

Johnny turns to look at V where she’s just walked into the apartment with an armful of cardboard boxes. She eyes him up and down quickly, Johnny with just a towel around his waist.

“No safety razor in here?” he asks.

“Nope.” She sets down the boxes and pats her hands on her shorts, coming over to stand next to him in the bathroom. “Don’t know how to use a straight razor?”

“No,” Johnny looks over at her, “Cus I’m not a 20th century barber.”

V rolls her eyes, “Alright smartass, since I’m so _nice,_ I’ll do it for you.”

Johnny steps back when V makes a motion for him to move away from the bathroom sink. He’s a little embarrassed to have his surprise ruined. “Don’t have to…”

“Do you want me to?” V counters, and Johnny pauses a moment. Johnny does like the sound of V helping him with this, just for the sake of having her company – as if they don’t spend every waking moment already attached at the hip.

“Wouldn’t mind learnin’.” He admits.

Johnny leans against the wall that faces the bathroom mirror and watches V busy herself with taking out the necessary supplies. Then, she unhooks the towel that hangs next to the mirror and replaces it with a straight razor strop.

Johnny raises his eyebrows, his voice coming out genuinely surprised, “Never noticed that before.”

V smiles, “Got a bit lazy with shaving my legs while everything else was happening so that’s no shocker.” She unfolds the straight razor and wipes it with the dry towel before pulling the strop taut and running the blade flat away from herself, “Never took it out around you.”

“Have you always shaved your legs with a straight razor?”

V hums, thinking, “Didn’t used to shave my legs, at all. Never really mattered.”

“Still doesn’t.”

She does a few more passes with the razor against the strop before glancing back at him and giving him a wink. “Mm you’re right, never had any complaints.”

Johnny can’t help but pull himself up from where he’s leaning to wedge himself against V’s backside, kissing her shoulder, “None.”

V hums, “Thought you wanted my help.”

“Just enjoyin’ the show.”

Hands still occupied by the strop and razor, V tilts her head back to give him a brief kiss, which he eagerly returns. “Behave yourself.”

“Mm.” Johnny reluctantly pulls away so she can continue with her task. He stops counting the passes she makes with the razor, but she flips it after several minutes, gaining a sort of rhythm in her work. He notices, bemusedly, that V taps her foot after every twist of her wrist, evenly sharpening both sides of the razor.

She lets go of the strop and holds up the razor to look over the sharpened edge, “Been a little while, but old habits die hard.” V hands him the razor and a towel, “You can sit on the bed or the sofa, your choice.” She leans down to grab a mug and brush from under the sink. Then, she fills the mug with hot water from the tap before submerging the bristles of her brush in it.

Johnny pads over to the edge of the sofa nearest to the window, his eyes still on V as she then sets a shallow bowl into the sink and fills it with steaming water, too. She carefully brings it over and sets it on the table next to where Johnny’s sitting, plucking the towel she’d given him earlier out of his hands and drapes it on his right shoulder. V is about to return to the bathroom, but Johnny takes hold of her hand and tugs her down into another kiss. He considers trying to pull her into his lap, but V laughs against his mouth and her delight is incredibly distracting. Johnny reluctantly lets her leave, and she returns to the bathroom, flicking the excess water out of the brush and dumping the hot water out of the mug to replace with shaving cream, which she quickly whisks into a lather.

Johnny is getting antsy with how long she’s spending out of arm’s reach. “Killin’ me here, V.”

V grins, looks up at him and then back down at the mug, “This is a very important step.”

“Then bring your important step a little closer, will ya?”

“Fine, fine. Geez,” V tuts, but it’s clear how much his attachment pleases her. V sets down the mug on the table next to the bowl of water, a damp face cloth, as well as a pair of trimming scissors and a fine-tooth comb. Johnny offers his free hand to her and she lowers herself comfortably into his lap.

V can’t hide the bemused laugh that follows, “Are you fucking hard? _Already?_ ”

Johnny groans, “Of fuckin’ course I am.”

She shakes her head, but can’t bite back the smile that threatens to bubble into another laugh, “Do you want me to shave you or not?”

“That’s an impossible question.”

V gives Johnny a quick peck, which feels like near agony in its temptation. “Didn’t think domesticity would turn you on so much.”

Johnny always looks so content underneath her, it’s a wonder V can ever find it within herself to crawl off. Ever since they’d returned to their bodies, they’ve been like this. Johnny’s still attached to her hip, and V still sometimes moves as if he’s part of her. They live synchronously, still so fucking addicted to that connection. She can’t remember a time she didn’t want him, didn’t want his hands to interlace with her own, sink deep into her bones, fold into her soul.

Johnny’s palms are splayed on her bare thighs, thumbs running a soothing motion against her skin: he thinks he can live with this. “Just love seein’ you with a blade.”

V raises her brows, a look of understanding still combined with that earlier smile, “Ah, now it’s making sense.”

“That time you used the edge of a knife to put on your eyeliner—” Johnny trails off, his eyes so dark and enticing, V has a hard time not just tossing all her prep aside to have him here and now.

She stifles that urge, a desperate promise to herself that they have time for that later – she wants to do this for him.

“Wanna trim your beard before I fix your neckline.”

“Sure.”

She pauses, and mulls it over, “Well, I can also leave that to you, it seems a little pointless now that I think about it…”

“Nah,” he runs his human hand up the swell of her thigh, fingers curling under the fabric of her shorts before he retreats back down to the safer, less suggestive zone of her upper knee, “Want you to do it.”

V nods, dipping her hands in the water and running them over his facial hair, her thumbs tracing across his mustache. Normally she’d hold a hot towel over his beard, but he’d just gotten out of the shower when she came back, his skin still warm and damp. Speaking of towels, she takes the towel off Johnny’s shoulder and places it on his chest to catch the hair that’s evidently about to fall all over his bare chest. She picks up her comb first, running it through the longer strands of his mustache that clearly need to be taken care of. Scissors in hand, V begins trimming Johnny’s facial hair for him. 

She knows there isn’t much needed to be taken off in length, it’s more of an overall consistency that he’s lacking. So she leans back and inspects her work so far, and then combs through the hair below his bottom lip. V works her way down to his chin, trimming the rest into a more respectable-looking beard.

V blinks several times, noticing something peculiar, and then moves in a bit closer, “Babe.”

“Mhm,”

“Congrats,” she moves both the comb and scissors to one hand so she can run her thumb along his bearded chin. “You’ve got grey hairs.”

Johnny’s gaze lazily moves up to her eyes, “S’what happens when you go through two lifetimes of stress.”

“Hm, isn’t there some ancient saying,” V tilts her head with a smile, “Old dog, new tricks?”

“It’s ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’,” Johnny corrects bemusedly, brushing aside some hair that had gotten in her face, “think you know all of mine already, sweetheart.”

She muses, “I could come up with some new ones.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows, a playful smile just at the corner of his mouth. He is utterly charmed by her at every turn, especially when she takes him off guard, “Sounds promising.” 

V’s composure breaks and she cracks a smile, “Later, then.” She brings the towel up to carefully scratch out any stray hairs that didn’t fall off, and then folds the fabric in a way that traps the fallen trimmings inside. She sets it on his shoulder again, “After I’ve cleaned you up.” V tilts his chin up with a delicate touch of her finger, “Look up for me, babe.”

Johnny complies, content to have his hands run down the length of her thighs, thumbs smoothing over skin. V reaches over and grabs the mug off the table, getting a generous dollop of shaving cream before lathering it into the beard hair on his neck. She sets aside the mug and takes the razor off the table where Johnny had set it down.

“Okay, ‘m gonna need you to stay still.” V urges.

Johnny acquiesces to her request, relaxing into the cushions behind him.

V thumbs at the handle of her straight razor before adjusting the angle and pulling Johnny’s skin taut with her other hand. Then, going with the grain of his hair, she makes a steady motion down the unkempt beard of his neck. She leans over briefly and rinses the blade off in the bowl of water at her side. His partner works quietly, and Johnny closes his eyes to the silence that surrounds them both. He never thought he’d be one to enjoy something so mushy and domestic, but everything with V has become too precious not to treat it with tenderness. She does another pass in an even stroke right next to the first, slowly working her way toward the middle of his throat to create a clean and even beard neckline. She has a practiced hand at this, which makes Johnny think she’s been doing it for a long time.

After V goes to rinse the blade again, Johnny speaks up, “Got a question.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder, indicating a pause in her work, “Mhm,”

“Why a straight razor?”

“Ah,” she nods, and then pulls her blade out of the water, “Jackie taught me, back when I first moved to Night City. We were bunkmates for a while, under Mama Welles’ roof.”

Johnny’s eyes open slowly, and his gaze slides up to her face. “He seems the straight razor type.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, interested to hear his meaning, “How so?”

“Mm.” Johnny mulls it over, remembering some of the things V had shared with him about her late best friend. “Embraced a kinda…traditional style, elaborate but still classy.”

V nods once, sighing wistfully, “He had a beautiful straight razor, used to shave with it every morning.” She tilts Johnny’s head up again, eager to continue with her task, “It had a gorgeous wooden handle, and the razor had a little engraved finish. Could tell he really treasured it.”

V slides the razor down Johnny’s neck again, “One day he was gettin’ ready before we went out,” Johnny can hear the smile in her voice, “Jackie was so big he always made everything in his room look so small.” She chuckles, rinsing the blade. “He was sitting there with his strop and his razor and his little setup, and saw me watchin’, just asked,” she lowers her voice to imitate Jackie, “‘want me to teach ya chica?’”

Johnny quirks the hint of a smile, “And so?”

“So, I said yes, cus Jackie was always the person who wouldn’t make fun of someone when they were learning something new.” She snorts, “Cut myself so fuckin’ bad the first time.” She switches her hand that holds the razor and takes hold of Johnny’s human wrist, “You know that scar near my knee.”

Johnny’s fingers seek it out automatically, running along the outer edge of her kneecap to the delicate skin at the crease of her leg. Still there, is a modestly sized divot, healed over with fragile scar tissue – one that now Johnny realizes is a perfect cut out from something like a straight razor. “Really?”

“Bled like you wouldn’t believe.” V confirms, returning the razor to her dominant hand before she gives it an extra rinse just in case, “Jackie assured me even the most experienced straight razor users accidentally cut themselves.”

Johnny is expecting V to do the middle of his throat next, but she surprises him by starting from the opposite outer edge of his neck. She works inward again, passing the blade with the grain of his hair. Johnny still has his hand where she’d left it, gently running his fingers over the raised scar tissue.

Another few strips, another few rinses, and then V is unavoidably at the center of his throat again. “Mkay, gonna do a line over your Adam’s apple, rinse, then lather again, and work against the grain this time.”

Johnny gives a small noise of approval, and V urges him to tilt his head back a bit more. Then, he feels the familiar drag of the razor at his beard line, running down and over the last unshaved strip of his neck. It’s over quickly, but Johnny has taken it all in – the sight of V over him, a blade in hand. Cold metal against arguably one of the most vulnerable spots on his body, her control over him now is incredibly gratifying. He’s certain she’s pulled the thought straight out of his head, made manifest to drive him crazy.

V rinses the blade and then takes the towel off his shoulder to dry it. She sets the straight razor aside and wipes his neck down with the towel before dipping her hand in the water and placing her wet palm against his throat. Johnny groans at her touch, and V’s hand pauses in its care, fingers resting near his pulse before coming up slowly around the curve of his jaw, combing through his sideburns and resting her hand at the nape of his neck to tug on his hair.

She presses her mouth to his Adam’s apple and Johnny feels like if he were any more prone to strong reactionary jolts, she’d feel every inch of his skin prickle with goosebumps. “Thought you were,” he swallows, and he can feel V’s breath on his neck, “Gonna do another pass.”

“I am.” She kisses his throat, “Just admiring my work.” 

She leans up and captures his mouth in a kiss then. Johnny moans, in earnest this time, hands curving around the backs of her thighs and tugging her in until she’s crowding his space. He doesn’t know if he can think much past the hot press of her tongue against his, the way she pulls a bit harder to keep him in spot. V grinds down on his half-hard cock and Johnny cusses harshly against her mouth. He grips her hips, encouraging her to do the same motion over again and he nearly takes up prayer in her name with how good it feels. He can hear her laugh a little, breathlessly, and Johnny leans his head forward, burying his face in her neck to try and maintain a modicum of self-control so she can finish her task.

“V…” he murmurs into her neck, kissing her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she hesitates before finally pulling her hips well enough away to not be crowding his dick. V runs her hands along his shoulders, palms smoothing down his collarbones and against his pectorals. She kisses him again and it has less heat behind it now, but both of them know with their track record how easily that can change.

He sighs, presses his nose against her cheek, their mouths still angled for another kiss, “Gonna leave the job half finished?”

“Considering it.” She admits. He wants so badly to give into her. Knowing just how much she wants him strokes his ego so fuckin’ good. Johnny thinks it might be the lasting influence of the relic on both of their souls, he’s never been so turned on at being under someone’s thumb. And it’s only because it’s her, the other half of his heart, that he feels so comfortable handing over that power to her, only because he trusts her so implicitly to not use it against him. He could take it back if he wanted, and he knows V would give over that power willingly to him because they’ve always been equals in that regard, shifting the scale just enough for one of them to take over. They have before. But he’s enjoying how much control she has in the situation, likes how dominant she gets with him – and he knows she loves it, too.

He smiles, “Doin’ so well. Really wanna spoil it?”

She huffs out a breath, and Johnny kisses her jaw before he leans back to bare his throat to her again. An invitation – even after he’s made his preferences known, he doesn’t push, he lets her decide. He knows her well enough that when she grumbles in agitation, it is because she recognizes her own sense of responsibility in finishing the task at hand.

V picks up the mug again and stirs the shaving cream a bit before beginning her second pass. Johnny lifts his metal arm and rests it on the back of the sofa behind him, his other hand dips a thumb into the waistband of her shorts at her hip, and sits there, warm and promising. And despite these distractions, V is as focused as ever, concentration never waning when she has the razor at his neck. This time, she pulls it carefully against the grain, gentler than the first pass. The fingers of her free hand find the smooth skin underneath the stubble, and whether intentionally or not, she leans into it as if she may kiss his neck again. Instead, she runs her thumb against the hairless surface, while she rinses off her blade in her other hand. V is quickly becoming enamored with how well Johnny cleans up.

“How’s it lookin’.” He asks after she’s paused for far too long.

“You look fucking hot.”

“Mm,” he smiles, cracks open an eye to look at her, “Not so bad yourself.”

“You’re baiting me.”

“Yep.” He admits it so easily. She playfully tweaks his nipple and if he weren’t so used to this being her usual retribution for him mouthing off, he would probably jump out of his skin. He just grins with his eyes closed. “Got a fixation, V.” He can hear her rinsing her razor and setting it aside.

“You’re one to talk.”

He opens his eyes, and she’s looking at him with the damp face cloth in hand. He pointedly runs a line with his gaze down from her eyes to her mouth. “Never said I didn’t.”

V shakes her head, tilting his chin up again and patting his neck clean with the face cloth. Johnny _does_ jump at that, hands coming up to grab her hips.

“ _Christ_ that’s fuckin’ cold,”

“It closes your pores, you’re just bein’ a wuss.”

“Want me to fuckin’ run a cold cloth down your legs—” 

“And what if I do?” V smirks, dragging the cloth down from his neck to the middle of his chest. Johnny snatches the cloth from her hand, wiping his beard, and V watches him looking pleased. He runs the cloth over his mustache and then, with little warning, pulls V closer and presses his cold lips to her throat.

“Johnny!” V’s voice hitches, her grip on his shoulder tightens. She tries to grab the cloth back from him but Johnny is faster, swiftly shoving his entire hand under the hem of her shirt and against the warm skin of her stomach.

V makes an undignified squeal, grabbing at his wrist, a reactionary frisson shoots up her spine at the cold.

“You’re so fucking cruel—” she starts to chide but Johnny has the audacity to bite her – and V has utterly no control over her own vocal cords. She lets out a choked moan and she can feel him smile against her fucking skin. With her job done, there’s absolutely no reason for V to stop herself from pouncing on him. She’s already halfway there already, sitting in his lap like she is. She scoots forward and palms at his cock under the towel wrapped around his waist, and Johnny is breathing so hard against her neck she feels like his arousal is feeding her own. He pulls his face away from her neck to kiss her hard, the hand under her shirt with the chilled cloth continues a path upward until her entire shirt is bunched up above her bra. V whimpers into Johnny’s mouth as he trails the fabric along the swell of one breast, and then the other. She gives up trying to grab him with her hand, seeing much more feasible means by inching forward in his lap until they’re chest to chest and she can grind herself on him in earnest.

V’s skin runs hot now, the cloth doesn’t keep cold anymore, and Johnny has completely lost interest in it, much more fascinated with how V has decided to mindlessly rub herself against his hardened cock. He tosses the cloth aside and takes hold of her hips, watching her try in vain to line up with his dick just right, and maybe get lucky on sliding it against her clothed clit.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, V.” Johnny’s voice comes out rough, clearly so fucking enthusiastic about this turn of events, rutting on the sofa like two hormone-crazed teenagers.

V huffs out a laugh, “So fucking hot,” she kisses him again and Johnny opens his mouth to her, his hands moving up to support her back, fingers tracing her shoulder blades. “Can’t believe how fucking good you looked...” V’s grip on his shoulder is near bruising and Johnny goes fucking nuts for it, “Baring your throat to me.” She trails off, a deliciously heavy drag against her clit and the swollen head of his cock, both of them moaning in unison.

“One to talk—” Johnny presses his forehead to hers, focusing on that steady rhythm between them, “Grinding on my cock fully-clothed like you don’t even have time…” he huffs out a laugh, “To take your fuckin’ pants off—” V interrupts him with a hard kiss, enough that he’s sure they’ll come close to bruising. He drifts his hands down and grabs under her thighs, lifting her up in his arms.

Johnny carries V the short distance to the bed, his towel falling somewhere behind him on the floor. He doesn’t give a shit, not when V’s looking at him like she’s gonna eat him alive. She takes off her zip hoodie, one arm getting stuck in the sleeve. Johnny tugs her free and both of them scoot up the bed. V is half focused on taking her clothes off, the other is more interested in touching Johnny wherever and whenever she can. He doesn’t mind, helping her tug her shorts and underwear off while she cards her fingers through his hair. When Johnny kisses her bare stomach, fingers dragging past her mons and finds her already so fuckin’ wet for him, he has to make a sincere effort not to cum on the spot.

V tugs at his hair, directing him to lie on his back, “C’mere,”

With a little pillow adjusting, Johnny sits in a reclined position, one hand offered to V as she climbs back on top of him. She tosses her bra across the room, managing to take down an empty coffee can in the process, her hair is mussed around her face, her other hand finds his cock between her legs – and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing Johnny’s ever fuckin’ seen. V closes her eyes, lips parted, and guides Johnny’s cock inside of her.

Johnny can’t decide between letting his head fall back to focus on the feeling or to watch V slowly sink herself down on him. Oh, but she’s so hypnotizing, and when he’s fully inside, she opens her eyes and smiles _._ “Fucking— _amazing,_ sweetheart,” Johnny praises, and V leans forward to kiss him, tongue warm and mouth so inviting. He kisses her back, and when she starts to move, he hums in encouragement.

V pulls herself up, and then sighs when he slides into her again. They are both so utterly transfixed on how complete they feel when his cock is fully inside her. V is addicted to the drag of him, the fill of him, and Johnny is obsessed with the way her body tries desperately to pull him in to the hilt. He steadies her by the hip, stutters out a breath at the brief pause before V lets his cock drive back into her.

“ _Christ,_ V,” he watches her take him in again, his mouth hanging open when his cock disappears inside of her. _“Fuck,”_

“You like watching me take your cock?” she murmurs breathlessly. She reaches to kiss him again, parting her lips and holding herself just out of reach of his mouth, breathing in the same air.

“Yes, baby,” he mumbles against her lips. V pulls herself off again and when he fills her again, he moans into her mouth, “ _yes._ ”

V balances herself better by putting her hands just above his hips, and Johnny reaches between her legs to thumb at her clit. V nods just enough so he knows that’s _exactly_ what she wanted, and now remains focused on fucking herself on his cock. There were times in the past that Johnny had to take over V’s body for the sake of their shared goals, they had to share her body with each other. And now, to watch V take her pleasure from Johnny’s body, it fulfills such a strange and indescribable sense of pride in him.

V leans forward and pressing her mouth to his in a searing kiss, driving herself onto his cock until he feels the telltale of her orgasm clench hard around him.

“That’s it baby,” he groans praises, “Cum on my cock.”

She takes him in to the hilt, everything around him pulses tight with her orgasm and V gasps, rocking through it. Johnny feels his own orgasm quickly approaching.

“Feel so good babe,” V encourages him through her own pleasure, eyes on him. And then Johnny watches another beautiful sight – V reaching her hand between her legs to quickly rub at her clit again, fumbling through another short and sharp second orgasm. He didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with her all over again. That finally pulls him under – and he cums, spilling deep inside her. V lets out a delighted little noise, fucks him through it, and Johnny stutters out another moan, oversensitive and _christ –_ _he can’t stop cumming._

“My god _,_ V… _,”_ Johnny sighs into her mouth when she leans down to kiss him again, “Love you.”

V kisses him once, twice, with a smile, squeezes around him in a way that makes his entire body shudder underneath her, “I love you too.” She murmurs back.

Eventually, he is completely spent. V manages to extricate herself off him before falling onto the side. Their skin is sticky with sweat, and V is absolutely boneless next to him, still breathing hard.

Johnny stares up at the ceiling until he hears V chuckle next to him. He tilts his head toward her, already halfway to a smile at listening to her own delight. She runs an arm across his chest, leaning over to kiss him softly. “You clean up nice, J.”

“Appreciate the help.”

V huffs, “You didn’t even look in the mirror yet.”

“Already know you did a good job.” 

She rolls her eyes, “How can you be so sure?”

Johnny kisses her again, “Cus I trust you.” V looks touched at his words, but he doesn’t give her an extra moment to think on it, “And now,” He leans up and pulls her into his arms, heading to the bathroom, “We need another shower.”

>>>

V finishes packing all her shaving supplies away and unfurls the towel holding her wet hair up. She runs her fingers through it once before tossing the towel on the hook next to the mirror. Johnny tugs on his pajama pants and gives his own wet hair a shake before peering into the mirror at his cleaned up facial hair.

“Nice, right?” V wiggles her eyebrows, having to stand on her tip toes to make eye contact with him behind his shoulder. She snakes an arm around him from behind, a hand on his stomach, kissing his shoulder blade.

Johnny huffs out the barest laugh before tugging her out of the bathroom and back to bed, “Gonna shave me every day now?”

V scoffs, “With how long that took us, we’ll run out of time to pack.” 

“For when we’re in the new place, then.” Johnny decides, as V pulls back the sheets. “I’ve got ideas.”

V puts a hand on her hip, waiting for him to crawl into bed first, “Is that so?”

Johnny uses a metal finger to tilt her chin up and kiss her gently, “Old dog, new tricks.”


End file.
